


Everything will change tonight

by nutriscii



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Awkward Conversations, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, pianist Lucas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22436311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutriscii/pseuds/nutriscii
Summary: “Why?” the guy asks, a little quieter. He seems… discouraged. Like his shoulders could be slumping even more than they already are. It’s a wonder how he manages to make himself look so small when he’s leaning towards the average to giant side of the population. “Are you one of those people who think the whole soulmate ordeal is bullshit?”soulmates AU where the music that is stuck in the head of your soulmate is also stuck in yours (for better or for worse).
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 6
Kudos: 203





	Everything will change tonight

With a loud sigh he lets his hands slide away from the piano keys, allowing himself five minutes of mental break. Just enough to feel sad about himself and his life choices, and reconsider the stupid laws of the universe. He’s reached a point of annoyance where he’d gladly lay down on the piano bench and try to go for a five-minute nap. Except that he’s in a stupid classroom, and that he can’t keep tracks of how many people got to sit on that stupid bench all fucking day long. In a word, it’s probably gross as fuck. Instead he simply opts to bury his face in the palms of his hands, letting out another huff.

The classroom is silent. Everything is, to be fair, saves for the soft humming of the aeration grid somewhere in the room. It’s not really surprising, considering most classes have already ended for the day, but the problem is not outside. It’s in his fucking _head_. All he’s been left to hear and think about since December is the piano song he’s working on for uni, and at first he was glad, you know? Because when music is your fucking _job_ (or major, but that’s beside the point), and that you’ve got to listen to your stupid soulmate blasting the most horrifying type of music on the face of the Earth (dubstep, _dubstep_ ) until ungodly hours, it quickly becomes tricky to focus and concentrate on your very own kind of music. And tuning out Ariana Grande seems to be infinitely easier than shutting out whatever music disgrace the song constantly replaying in his head is.

Well, was. Used to be. He doesn’t really know. 

He was studying for his midterm exam last December when he just snapped really bad. That shitty dubstep had been the last strike. It had been playing in his head day and night, and between his hands not working properly and insomnia returning in all its stupid glory, he had slammed his hands so hard on the piano keys in frustration that the teacher from the classroom next door had come to check on him.

Dubstep had stopped playing in his head after that.

Sweet relief at first.

Don’t get him wrong, soulmates are cute. It’s a nice thing to think about for most people. It’s exciting and all that stuff, the thrill of knowing there’s somewhere out there for you, of feeling connected to someone through something as beautiful and pure as _music_. All his life he had heard about it, and even looked forward to it, that day when he’d start hearing whatever music his soulmate would be listening to. It’s incredibly exhilarating, _right_? Well he should have known he belongs to that 0.1% of the population for whom it’s all but fun. Music has always been a huge part of his life, and long, long before any soulmate business came tainting it with some supposedly greater meaning than the mere enjoyment of it all. He was seven when his dad had decided, one fine morning, that he’d play the piano, and to hell if back then he much preferred playing football with his friends. If that particular decision had just been the first of a long string of others, sometimes even more arbitrary ones, it’s probably the one he’s come to least resent.

Which is quite ironic, if you ask him, considering it’s been taking over the biggest part of his life ever since.

Most of his teenage years have been divided between long Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, spent studying boring solfege and practicing the piano at the music school next door. One of the many perks of living in Pairs was (and still is) the fact that he has everything he needs, sometimes just across the street. After school, he’d eat lunch by himself in the music school courtyard and with a mix of confusion and horror, he’d listen to the class offering an introduction to music to toddlers, occasionally wondering who on Earth could decide that giving cymbals to a 4-year-old was a good idea. During primary school he had tried to conceal his love for football and his love for music, but he had to give up the idea due to scheduling conflicts, and unsurprisingly enough his dad had no trouble to choose between the two. Lucas would have resented it if he had not been enjoying playing, and so he had kept learning, and playing, and learning some more. Sheet music had become more and more sophisticated and more and more complicated, and he had eventually started studying musicology after the BAC.

And, frankly, if it weren’t for his stupid soulmate, everything would fine. Piece of cake.

But no. _No,_ he has to think about his stupid soulmate all the fucking time now.

So much he probably failed his test this morning.

He’s going to fail the whole year if he doesn’t find a way to focus. It’d just be easier if, you know… If he had any explanation as to _why_ dubstep had stopped. And soulmate music altogether, to be honest. Soulmate music is like elevator music. It’s not at the forefront of your thoughts, it’s something you hear in the background. He’d be able to recognize it if-

A metallic click breaks the silence, and his head snaps to the side as he spins around on the piano bench. The door is hanging ajar, which is a tad weird because he distinctly remembers closing it behind him when he entered.

“Hello?”, he calls out, reclining away from the piano.

There’s no answer.

He checks the time on his phone. It’s almost 7.30. He still has technically half an hour before the school closes for the night, but he’s come across at least two janitors on his way here and it’s probably one of them, he decides, who was checking the room. He purses his mouth and tosses the thought away, letting absent fingers skimming over the piano keys. They’re not even producing a sound yet, when there’s a rustle behind him, making him spin around all over again.

“Hey, I’m not kidding,” he calls out. He’d like to believe he’s more annoyed than truly worried but there’s a tiny churning in his stomach right now that he can’t quite place and he hates it. “If you’re listening, it’s in or out.”

No answer. Great. A fucking moron then.

He eventually stands up from the bench and walks up to the door, pulling it fully open. The hall is empty, but the light detectors have gone off and it’s just confirming the fact that there is actually someone there who has nothing better to do on a stupid evening than to mess with him. He heaves a sigh, deep and annoyed, and shakes his head to himself as he’s stepping back into the classroom. Maybe he should just call it a night. Yeah. It’s not like he’s going to get anything done now, he thinks begrudgingly as he makes his way towards the front of the classroom to grab his stuff. He’s just throwing his backpack over his shoulder when he hears a small knock, prompting him to spin around for what feels like a fucking never-ending repetition of the same exact three seconds of his life.

This time, though, there’s someone. Which is both a relief and a bit of a concern, if he’s being honest. “Hey,” the guy says. He’s standing in the doorway, tall and looking vaguely lanky in a sweater and a jacket that seem simultaneously fitting and too big for him. “I’m- uh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Lucas snorts, unimpressed, as he finishes throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “It’s fine, just don’t pretend there’s no one else around because it’s creepy,” he groans, more to himself than to the guy. Music students are all used to people barging in to listen even if no one invited them to do so anyway, it’s not like it’s coming off as a shocker.

He’s making his way to the back of the classroom, shoving his hands into his pockets, but the guy has still not budged from his spot next to the door. A tiny bit unfortunate, considering Lucas is trying really hard not to stare at him. It shouldn’t be a problem, except that there’s a sudden outpour of cheekbones and grey eyes and messy hair in his peripherical vision, and it’s starting to become distracting as he’s getting closer.

“I panicked,” the guy says sheepishly, and his voice is barely getting any louder than a whisper.

It’s starting to get awkward. Lucas gives him a small but distant smile as he’s walking past him and stepping in the doorway. “Yeah, well, it’s fine, no biggie,” he throws on his way out.

He’s kind of hoping the guy won’t follow him, because he may be cute but he looks a bit weird right now. And not just adorably-quirky weird. He looks dark-circles-under-the-eyes weird. Bloodshot-eyes weird. Probably-shaking weird, for all he knows.

“Wait,” the guy says behind him, and Lucas rolls his eyes to himself as he turns around.

“ _What_?”

There’s a silence and the guy bites on his bottom lip, hard enough for Lucas to feel the tingle on his own mouth. “I’m sorry, I really am trying not to sound like a creep,” he mumbles, and there’s an awkward chuckle that comes out from his mouth. “I just- I’ve listened to your music a while ago and I just can’t get it out of my head ever since.”

Lucas scrunches his nose. “It sucks, sorry.” _I’ve known that feeling for months,_ he almost adds, but he’s not really feeling like talking and the mere thought of it is apparently enough to make his skin prickle and his mind race all over again.

The guy steps in the hall, already about to reply something, but then he catches himself and takes a step back to flip the lights off before closing the door. Which is… kind of endearing. He’s got no idea why it seems like a cute gesture, but maybe it’s just because he’s emotionally starved and that being environmentally conscious seems really attractive when it’s paired with cheekbones and an obvious ability to reach upper shelves he can’t relate to.

“No, I really mean it,” the guy insists, walking closer, and Lucas frowns. He’s starting to get bored with this and if he wants to make it to the closest bus stop to catch his 7.45 bus ride home, he really needs to shorten whatever that conversation is. “I can’t get it out of my head, and I was- I was wondering if maybe-”

“Maybe what?,” he asks impatiently. “If you want the title-”

“I think you’re my soulmate,” the guy blurts out, cutting him off, and Lucas stares at him blankly, unable to process. For what seems to be fucking forever, he’s just looking like an idiot, too taken aback to reply or to move. “It’s not just a random song I’ve heard once or twice on the radio,” the guy adds quickly, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “I keep hearing it all the time and I’m not- I mean I’m not a pianist like you, I just can’t be able to remember it if I’ve heard it once only.”

“Or maybe you just have perfect ear?”, he hears himself saying. Or more like, croaking out. There’s something flickering through the guy’s tired eyes, and Lucas sighs a little. “Look, it’s really flattering but I don’t think there’s any soulmate business going on with that song.”

“Why?” the guy asks, a little quieter. He seems… discouraged. Like his shoulders could be slumping even more than they already are. It’s a wonder how he manages to make himself look so small when he’s leaning towards the average to giant side of the population. “Are you one of those people who think the whole soulmate ordeal is bullshit?”

He has to snort. “Because believing that someone you just met is the one you’re supposed to spend your life with simply because the two of you heard the same song in an elevator once seems any less gullible?” He can’t begin to count the number of times he’s heard of people deceiving others simply because they’ve peered at the content of their Spotify playlist and pretended there’s some kind of connection there. It’s not like he’s been thinking it’d happen to him, no. He’s not some hot influencer guy with 256k followers or whatever, and the idea that someone, literally _anyone_ would seek to be with him to the point of deceiving him is probably the one that takes the cake, aside from the soulmate/no soulmate discourse. But still. “I just think there’s a limit between being a romantic and thinking that only soulmates are made for each other,” he shrugs. “The song I’m practicing… It’s a fairly simple one to the ear. It’s got many repetitive notes, and if you’ve got good memory, then it takes more than a few days to forget. That’s just what it is. No soulmate business.”

Really, it’s not that far-fetched. And he’s speaking as someone who’s been living and breathing with that fucking song stuck in his head for-

“It’s been over a month,” the guy says. “Last month I walked by and you were playing and it happened once. And I’m not a memory genius, I’m just… I don’t know I’m just a regular guy with a regular ability to remember stuff.” He stops to take a short breath, that turns into another one of his nervous chuckles. “I mean perhaps not that regular because I can’t fucking sleep so I might just be on the verge of forgetting my name and my blood type if I go through another week of that treatment.”

Now he’s starting to understand why he said he was trying to go for a ‘not a creep’ type of approach. He can’t say it failed completely, though, because as it is Lucas is mostly pitying him. Not sleeping is a fucking torture, and if months, years even, of battling against insomnia have taught him one thing is that it fucking sucks more than just being plain tired. Also probably why this guy looks like he’s about to have a breakdown.

The guy’s eyes drop, and he really does look exhausted, so much it makes Lucas feel even worse. Frankly it’s not every day that a boy like him comes around and proclaims himself his soulmate. He’s never even had anyone calling themselves his soulmate, to begin with.

“I’m truly sorry.” He pauses, voice slightly trailing off as the guy’s eyes dart onto him. He’s feeling self-conscious enough to pull a hand out of his pocket and rub the back of his head. “I just… I mean, I really don’t want you to think I’m ignoring you because I don’t believe in soulmates. I do, on some level, and it’s…” Fuck he’s starting to lose it. He doesn’t even know how to articulate his thoughts, and the mere evocation of his soulmate is starting to make him uneasy all over again. “Let’s just say it’s complicated.”

“Right,” the guy whispers, and there’s a silence as they both seem to be avoiding each other’s eyes. It’s stupid. He’s done nothing wrong and yet he feels terrible. “Guess I’ll just go back to blasting dubstep until it… wears off, or something.”

A chill runs up Lucas’ spine, and he doesn’t realize he’s gaping like an idiot until he’s trying to swallow down and ends up letting out an embarrassingly strangled sound. Many people listen to dubstep. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Exhausted-guy looks at him like a second head has popped up on his shoulder, brow slightly furrowing, and he takes a step closer before he has pulled himself together long enough to regain his composure.

“You okay?”

He blinks. “Yeah, I just-,” his voice trails off. Should he share? He can still prevent himself from doing so, right? Unless his brain-to-mouth filter is definitely screwed up, which he’s not sure isn’t the case. “My soulmate used to listen to dubstep a lot, is all.”

Exhausted-guy gives him a small smile. “Really? Any name?”

Lucas grimaces. “I don’t know. I got tired of searching halfway through Skrillex’s discography.” The guy chuckles quietly, but the more Lucas is trying not to jump to conclusions, the more his brain seems to be decided to do exactly the opposite. “I’m sorry, when was it that your heard me playing?”

“I don’t really remember,” he admits, and he looks vaguely uncomfortable. “Early December that’s for sure. I’m sorry if I made things awkward, really, I just thought that maybe I could-”

“I think you’re right,” Lucas says, voice a little rough. “About me. About us.” He finds himself squirming a little under the guy’s grey eyes, like he too has the feeling that it’s just the cheesiest dialogue of a straight-to-DVD romcom. “Last December was when I started rehearsing for that song. And it was the moment I stopped hearing others from my soulmate.”

The guy doesn’t reply anything at first, which is a little weird considering that he’s the one who came up with that life-altering statement in the first place. “Fuck,” he eventually says, and Lucas lets out a huff. “Does that mean-”

 _It means that you’re supposed to be mine_. It’s a weird feeling. Not quite that of a missing piece of the puzzle he had long been expecting, but it’s not disagreeable either. It’s the kind of things that happens, he guesses, when you meet someone for the first time. Not everyone has the chance to be soulmates with a friend of yours, but it doesn’t seem all that bad either.

“Yeah. I think it does.” He nibbles onto his bottom lip. The atmosphere seems to have gotten a lot heavier since Lucas’ brain started working on its own, but maybe that’s just him searching for clues that shit is happening. “Does that mean you’ve stopped listening to dubstep now?”

The guy scrunches up his nose. “I’ve… had a lot on my plates lately. Wasn’t really feeling like listening to music. Except for yours, I mean.”

There seems to be quite some things packed behind these few words, but he doesn’t dare to ask. It’s not like it’s his business anyway. Or-

Is it?

“Fuck,” he lets out. _Fuck_. If that guy’s his soulmate then it definitely _is_ his business.

He curses some more (mentally this time). He hadn’t planned to meet his soulmate today. How many things are going to change? Do people always end up dating their soulmates? Does that mean they have to date now? It’s not like he’s not interested, it’s just that blind dates aren’t his forte in the first place how is he supposed to-

A small smile shows up on the guy’s tired features. “Yeah, fuck indeed,” he echoes, drawing his attention back on him. “I’m- uh. I’m Eliott, by the way,” he presses on. He takes a few steps forward, holding out his hand awkwardly. “And I might need the title of the song for sanity purposes.”

“Sanity purposes,” Lucas repeats slowly, squeezing his hand. He huffs a snort. “It doesn’t really have a title. But I can send you a registered version against an established schedule for your dubstep.”

“Sanity purposes,” Eliott says, still holding his hand.

“Sanity purposes.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading 🤟🏻✌🏻


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